


Happily Ever After, or "What Joss Would Never Let You Have"

by alizarin_nyc



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-02
Updated: 2005-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alizarin_nyc/pseuds/alizarin_nyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more things might have changed, the more they might have stayed the same. Who can say?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily Ever After, or "What Joss Would Never Let You Have"

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my way of saying goodbye to the show.

  
I.

"Mr. Harris, you're 10 o'clock is here."

"Yes, send him in please."

Joan turned to the attractive man standing at her desk whose blue eyes were trained evenly on her face.

"Mr. Uh…" She gulped.

"Call me Bill."

"Bill. Mr. Harris will see you now."

The man moved down the hallway and Joan, of Harris Construction Administrative Services, watched his retreating backside. She could barely refrain from doing something that would embarrass her, and likely get her fired. A low wolf whistle perhaps. _I am a professional_ , she reminded herself. Besides, she thought, _I have a boyfriend_. Maybe this Bill-person was going to be the new division manager. She tamped down her excitement over the prospect of seeing him every day and sternly reprimanded herself for continuing to stare at his butt.

Bill scuffed his way down to the "master office" and straightened his tie self-consciously. In a trim suit and tie he was far more stylish than conservative, but truth be told, he'd always be much more comfortable in jeans.

"Spike!" Xander threw open the door of his office and ushered him in. "Great to see you!" He pumped his hand as if one of them was running for office, then blurted, "Oh, forget it," and threw his arms around him.

"Harris, you never cease to amaze me," Spike said, taken aback. "Not that I don't love a good bit of manly bonding and all that, but your message had me worried." Xander gestured to a plush chair and seated himself in the chair next to it. "What evil is afoot my good man?"

"Oh. No. No evil," Xander said, and then shifted in his chair awkwardly. "That is, no evil of the super-special evil kind. Just, regular evil, you know, the regular evil that's always there, and well, you know what I'm saying…"

"No, no I don't." Spike peered closer at Xander. "Harris, are you starting to go a bit… senile?"

"Ha. Very funny. _No_ , actually." Xander leaned back in his chair and his eyes clouded. "But I've been thinking."

"No good can come of that."

"True." He sighed. "But since Willow… um, _passed away_ , I've been thinking about my family, my business; what would happen if something happened to me."

"Nothing, my dear Xander – unfortunately for me – is going to happen to you." Spike leaned forward earnestly. None of them had been the same since Willow died, as could be expected. Everyone blamed themselves. Everyone was thinking, _am I next?_

"You don't know that, Spike," Xander replied, just as earnestly. "The only thing we do know is that it could happen to any one of us, at any time. Except you, of course."

"Not _except me_ , Harris, you twat. I could certainly be staked this very moment and not one of you could prevent the great poof of vamp dust." Spike suddenly grinned. "Let's pretend I didn't say poof."

"Okay, but what I'm saying is… that after Willow… I just don't know anymore," Xander said, breezing over Spike's joke. "We've all been good for a while and I guess I wasn't living with the prospect of imminent death, for a few months at least, and it really snuck up on me."

"It snuck up on us all, mate," Spike replied softly, grin gone.

"So I've been thinking about what I've got now, and what I'd want to happen if it was me."

"Harris, your wife may kill you if you don't mow the lawn, but I just don't see you shuffling off this mortal coil anytime soon – demon-fighting or no."

"Aw, Spike, I think you wub me," Xander said, cocking his head and affecting a cute wide-eyed look.

"What, you're allowed to be serious and I'm not?" Spike snorted, looking miffed.

"Naw," Xander said. "I know you're trying to be all stiff upper lip, like Giles would have wanted you to be, but you know what I'm saying. Actually, you don't, because what I'm trying to say is that I want you to be the executor of my will. I want you to take care of my business, my finances and most importantly, my family and friends if I go. And I want it all to be drawn up in a legal fashion."

Spike gaped at Xander. Xander looked out the large plate glass window onto his construction yard, at the busy little minions carting lumber back and forth, sawing, sanding and generally working pretty hard. Things are good, Xander thought. Very good. But Willow died and he had not been able to stop it. He had mourned her, but he was far from over the shock. He needed to act _now_ , in his family's interests, before something snuck up on him. His luck could last only so long.

"Xander, man, I think you really ought to think about this," Spike finally said. "You don't want to be rash. You have plenty of time…"

"We don't know how long any of us has, and we never have," Xander said. "What we do is dangerous, and we live as if we're okay with that. But now I have other people to think about and I want to be able to rest easier knowing they're going to be okay."

"But why me, of all people?" Spike asked. "Um, of all vampires?"

"Let's not play games, Spike. You and I both know that there's no one I trust more to look after my interests."

"I've been looking after your interests all right," Spike said, cocking an eyebrow at Xander and trying to lighten the mood with a little sexual innuendo. He let his gaze travel up Xander's thigh to the man's nervous clasped hands.

"Like I said," Xander said, playing along, "There's no one I trust more to look after me." He met Spike's gaze and pursed his lips making a kissy-face.

Spike laughed, the sound filling the big office and Xander joined him. "Whatever you need, Xander, sweetums. And I mean that."

"Okay, seriously, I need you to look over some papers I've had my lawyer draw up and then you sign, and then you get the keys to the castle if I kick it."

"And let's hope that you never do."

"Never hurts to be prepared, right?"

Spike sighed. "In your case, you're right to make sure that Ann and all your kiddies are taken care of if the worst case scenario were to rear its ugly and unwelcome head. But there's no better thing you can do than just make sure you're at peace with your loved ones every day of your life. Let them know how you feel, an' all." Spike leaned back and fixed Xander with his most intense gaze.

"Vampire wisdom. That oughtta be a book," Xander said, not meeting Spike's eyes at first.

"It is," Spike replied. "Bestseller too, last year."

"I hear what you're saying, Spike. Not about bestselling vampire analects, but about family, friends, people knowing how you feel about them. That's why I wanted to have this talk with you."

"You WUB me, Xander!" Spike said gleefully.

"Shut up! I'm being all manly now…"

"Now? Since when?"

"I was hoping you'd know that I care about you and that I trust you – because I really do – and this is my way of showing that, as well as the other stuff. Two birdies, one large legal rock." Xander sat back, spent with the effort of trying to communicate with Spike.

"This _company_ will be a damn rock, a veritable millstone around my neck… not to mention your _offspring_ ," Spike started to snark, but stopped when he saw Xander was tired of the jokes. "Okay, Xander, like I said, whatever you need and I mean it. Show me where to sign and I accept this unexpected Hallmark card from you." He cracked an uneasy grin. "And I do expect you to stay around, take care of your own business, and show me again and again how much you care."

"Thanks, Spike. I will."

"And know that I… um, you know, the same."

"I think the word is ditto."

"Yeah," Spike rose from his chair and turned to the door. He faced away from Xander and said quietly, "I care a lot, yeah? Have for quite a long while now."

"Ditto," Xander said and moved to escort him out.

"Oh! Barbecue at my place… tomorrow. God! I almost forgot to remind you!" Spike said, slapping his own forehead.

"Right, I wouldn't forget. It's the Big Day, isn't it?" Xander asked. "She's not going to be very surprised, is she?"

"Huh. Well, no. I can't keep a bloody secret. Anyway, got the tee ball set up for the kids," Spike said opening the door and speaking over his shoulder.

"Ooooh," Xander said, eyes lighting up. "Kids meaning you and me?"

"Naturally," Spike said, reaching into his breast pocket for his silver cigarette case, "We do have to show them how it's done, of course."

II.

Buffy dropped from the tree, sweeping down in the middle of a gang of vampires who were quite surprised to find her suddenly in their midst.

"Sorry to drop in on you like this," Buffy said smoothly, "I just didn't want to miss the party."

"Lady, you are one stupid bitch," one of them said with feeling.

"Heh, Jack, she's one stupid _dead_ bitch," another remarked.

"Oh slay me with your rapier wit, gents!" Buffy said affecting a swoon. "And while we're on the subject of slaying…" She pulled a stake as long as her forearm from the sleeve of her butter yellow suede coat.

"You think you can stake even one of us?" The vamp Jack and his other talkative buddy collapsed on each other with laughter, exaggerating their leaning for heightened humor. The remaining three vamps cracked grins but stayed alert.

Buffy pulled another stake from a strappy contraption on her back and now, armed with two, two foot-long stakes, began a series of high kicks to the vamp's faces. The three more serious-minded vamps rushed her quickly all at once and Buffy executed a neat set of spins and kicks, staking two at once and knocking the other to the ground. Jack and his friend quit their rollicking laughter and growled into gameface.

"She really wants it, Jack!"

"She's gonna wet herself with fear, once we're done," Jack said. "Watch." And Jack roared toward her, baring his fangs.

"In the words of the doppelganger of my very best friend: _bored now_ ," Buffy said with a slight hitch in her voice. "And for the record, my panties are drier than ever. _Surely_ that's not all you got?"

"Don't call me Shirley," Jack growled. Boy, he was a wit if ever there was one. Buffy considered keeping him around to show the slayers-in-training. They might get a kick out of it. But then Jack leveled a punch straight to Buffy's chest and she had second thoughts. Sprawling on the ground, she fumbled for her stakes as Jack sprang. They tussled and Jack got the upper hand. He paused for a moment, triumphant and opened his mouth to let loose another quip. Buffy took the opportunity to wrap her fingers around her stake and drive it home.

She'd never know what witty rejoinder he was about to utter. And she found she didn't really care, either. She rolled over and kipped up onto her feet, ramming a stake into the vamp she'd previously knocked down just as he was getting up to try again.

Jack's friend put his hands up in a conciliatory way, backing away from the underestimated slayer.

"Whoa, there, Slayer. Hey. Didn't know it was you. Didn't recognize you, what with all the… you know, your stunning beauty, and…"

" _Girls!_ " Buffy suddenly called out. "Get over here, now!"

"Slayer, you brought friends?"

"I brought other slayers, vamp, and I want them to see how many ways there are to kill you," Buffy said.

"Well, technically I've already been killed, and, wait. How many ways? Ways? As in you're going to use me as a _teaching tool?_ " Jack's friend was slowly but not too subtly backing away from Buffy and scanning the perimeter of the trees to see if he could outrun the Slayer and lose her in the forest.

"Don't even think about running, slimeball, because I know you really do regret underestimating me before. Your other friends do." Buffy stayed ready, keeping her eyes on the vamp but shouting out again, "Girls!"

Buffy could see the girls stroll around the corner of an abandoned warehouse several yards away. They had obviously not heard her yelling and were chatting – no, squealing – amongst themselves. Yikes, what a bunch of retards. "Girls!" Buffy hollered.

The girls' heads snapped up, and they spotted Buffy out by the tree, and stood stock still. "Get over here!" Buffy felt like she was screaming with her last breath. She was going to spend so much time hollering at them there would be no energy left to teach with.

They finally caught a clue and began running, or jogging, really, toward her. Jack's friend took the opportunity to make his move and shuffled forward quickly, kicking Buffy in the shin. "Ow! You moron. The shins! That hurts," Buffy whined. "You are so gonna get it now, mister." Jack's friend was attempting a number of feints and throwing punches into the air like a boxer getting ready for his time in the ring.

"I was a boxer before I was turned," Jack's friend growled. "That's right, slayer, uppercut, uppercut, jab, jab, _hook_." He was dancing around now, his arms flailing wildly in the air, his feet kicking up a hell of a dust storm. The girls had approached them and were hovering uncertainly in the background.

"Girls, who's ready to take this idiot?" Buffy called out.

No answer.

"Girls, he's going to be the easiest mark you'll probably ever have; step up and learn something."

The girls edged infinitesimally closer, gripping their stakes tightly. Jack's friend moved in on Buffy, sensing that she was the bigger threat. He punched her right in the nose with an amateur's adrenalin-fueled strength.

"Holy hell," Buffy said, spinning around to clock Jack's friend right back in _his_ nose and knocking his arms up to reveal the bull's-eye. She staked him cleanly and turned to the girls, disapproval and disdain written all over her face.

*****

The drive back to Headquarters was tense, to say the least. The girls tried to alleviate Buffy's wrath by making jokes and attempting to include her in their girl talk. They babbled on about boys and whether or not any particular boy found them attractive and what said boy would say if he knew the object of his affection was a slayer.

Buffy just tried to keep her eyes on the road as she steered the car back over the Golden Gate Bridge and through downtown San Francisco. At this point she could not wait to get rid of the girls at their makeshift dorm in the city and get back to her cozy home in Belmont. At this rate, with traffic, she calculated it would be well over an hour. This did not make her happy.

"So hey," one of the trainees, Beth, piped up. She was obviously trying to sever the tension in the car. "What's our next assignment?"

"Research," Buffy said, thinking of the worst possible punishment she could come up with. Plus, the girls hadn't had much study-time since Willow fell ill. The new librarian, sent out directly to San Francisco from the London Watcher's Council, had been busy setting up shop and seeing the sights, but it was time she got integrated into the group. An all-night demon research session should kill two birds with one tome.

"When do we get to train again?"

"After today, what's the point?" Buffy snapped.

"Well… it would be really cool if we could train with a vampire that we sorta knew wouldn't really kill us," Beth said.

"No such thing," Buffy replied.

"But I heard…" Sara, sitting in the back, trailed off, then gathered her courage. "Look, aren't you like, _married_ to a vampire? A harmless vampire?"

"Don't let Bill hear you call him a vampire. He'd take offense." Buffy kept her eyes firmly on the road. There were some things the girls would have to earn.

Sara sighed and gave up. Or at least Buffy thought she did. She heard Sara grunt and then mutter something that sounded suspiciously like " _Spuffy_."

"What did you say?" Buffy shot her a look in the rear view mirror.

"I said it's a bit stuffy in here," the girl replied, meeting her gaze.

"Oh. Right." Buffy cracked the window, letting in some air. She really needed some air herself. She flicked the radio with her finger and let the sound of the rushing air and the music stymie any further conversation.

III.

"Honey, I'm home!" Spike shouted into the house, banging open the front door. He heard the sound of the phone ringing and ran down the hall, knocked over the coat stand and scrambled for the phone which was ringing insistently. In fact, it was ringing with _impatience_ , even with a touch of _malice_. Spike flew over the sofa, knocking the phone across the kitchen counter and he stepped all over Buffy's pretty little sofa pillows in his efforts to fling himself over the counter and into the kitchen where he landed hard on the linoleum.

This had better be worth it.

"Hullo?"

"Spike."

"Hell, _Angel?_ I nearly killed myself to get this call and it's you?"

"Nice to hear your voice as well," Angel said, huffing into the phone like the overly-sensitive git that he was.

"Yeah, well, Buffy's not here," Spike said.

"Okay. I just…"

"Hey, forget that, you can talk to me, mate. You coming up tomorrow right?"

"Spike." Angel sighed into the phone with much broodiness. "I just don't feel comfortable being there, with everyone… you know." His voice trailed off.

"Don't be a git, you're coming, and that's that." Spike lit up a cigarette and reached to open the kitchen window while cradling the phone under his ear. "Angel, we've been over this."

"I know."

"I've got the tent all set up for us!" Spike enthused. "No fear of direct sunlight. The _Dawnnor_ will be here. And when was the last barbecue you went to?"

"Um, I don't think I've ever been to a barbecue," Angel said.

"Exactly."

"Exactly, what, Spike? Just 'cause you're Mr. Happy Homemaker with my former girlfriend, and then there's Dawn and Connor; I just can't take it."

"Hm," Spike said. "That is the most boring story I've heard all day. And I've been over to see Harris, so that should tell you something. And boo fuckin' hoo, your former flame and me, been there, done that. And if you can't be happy for your own son, fer chrissakes!" Spike was inhaling quickly, shooting the smoke out the window in a ferocious gust. "Fucking-A, Angel, you give new meaning to the word angst." Spike paused. "Wait, you got dumped again didn't you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You're feeling all lonely and shit and you got dumped by that, erm, what's-her-name, that poor-man's-Cordelia-Chase. Holy hell, Angel, you're pathetic."

"Thanks, Spike, that's just what I needed to hear," Angel said. He wasn't banging the phone down, which meant that he really needed to talk. Spike wasn't best buds with Angel or anything, but they had worked together over the years, Angel holding down Los Angeles, Spike and Buffy working in San Francisco. It had worked well, with Willow and her wife in Seattle, a fairly easy commute to San Francisco for research-related matters and issues requiring special magic. They'd also flown in for a few apocalypses. Xander and his family lived nearby in Silicon Valley. Dawn and Connor had somehow both arranged to work out of the Santa Barbara office in the early years, where there wasn't really a very heavy vamp population. They both got great tans and a year later they were married. No wonder Angel felt a little out of place at a family barbecue. Hell, even Gunn had married a slayer and was coming up north for the big bash with his three sons and one granddaughter. Melinda, Willow's widow was packing up their home with Oz's help, and moving to San Francisco for a while. Everyone was connected. Except it seemed, for Angel.

"What's Blue doing this weekend? You could get our favorite former god-king to be your date," Spike hinted, as he still had a soft spot for Illyria, despite her insistence that he was her special pet and occasional punching bag.

"She went on a walking tour of the bottom of the ocean. Strode right off Santa Monica Pier three months ago. I actually expected her back by now." Angel paused and seemed to be musing on his erstwhile roommate. "And I did end up breaking things off with Candice," he continued. "She didn't really get the whole vampire-with-a-soul thing, in the end. She was kinda wigged out over my age, too."

"Ah, but you don't look a day over 40," Spike said.

"Very funny. I may have aged a little, okay, but I still look good for my century."

"As do I, my friend, as do I."

"It's just…" Angel sighed again. Spike flicked his cig out the window, and then flinched as he realized he wasn't supposed to toss his butts in Buffy's roses, and turned to hunt for blood in the fridge.

"Look, Peaches, this isn't about you. And I know you know that. It's about Buffy and all the slayer sisters doing what they can to carry on the tradition. This hasn't been easy for Buffy. Losing Willow has been the biggest blow we've suffered since… well, since Giles died. But... hey, hey, don't interrupt me. You are _family_ , Angel, our family, that's all there is to it. I know you know all this and that's why I have to ask you to stop acting the right prat and just get on your fancy formerly-Wolfram-and-Hart jet and be here tomorrow so's I can kick your ass at tee ball."

"What's tee ball?" Angel said.

"Come up and find out."

"I don't have a date."

"All the better, Faith'll be here, and if she's too old for you now, there's sure to be plenty of young, fit slayers around that would love to take a gander at the second-handsomest vamp-with-a-soul in the world. They'll make you feel right at home, mate. Believe me, I know. That's why Buffy don't introduce me to 'em 'til they're good and worn in on the slayer lore an' what's what. The newest ones won't even be here, but there're still lots that are nice and ripe for the pickin'."

"Uh… Spike? I hope you haven't forgotten about your _wife_ , and what she would say if she heard you talking like that!" Angel sounded slightly cheerier and Spike knew that the battle had been won.

"You threatenin' to blackmail me? Eh, Fatty?"

"Spike," Angel said in a warning tone. "It's not me that's the little homemaker house-frau these days. You wanna talk showdown, just show me how to play that tee ball thingy and I'll be sure to kick your ass like I kick the ass of demons every day, just for exercise."

Spike grinned into the phone. His head jerked up, however, when he heard the door open and Buffy's holler, "Honey, I'm hooooooooome!"

"Oh, Spikey, is that the sound of the whip I hear?" Angel purred.

"Shut it."

"Better get dinner on the table and tighten your apron strings."

"All I have to say, is you'd better be here tomorrow so I can knock you on your ass right on my freshly mown lawn. Grass stains are a bitch."

"And so are you," Angel crowed. "I'll be there before noon."

"Ring up the house and we'll send someone to get you, jackass."

"Right. Will do."

"Bye then."

"Who was that, honey?" Buffy bounded in with a kiss for him, wrinkling her nose at the smell of cigarette smoke.

"Peaches, naturally," Spike answered. "Having a little sissy fit over the fact that he doesn't have a date for prom."

"Prom?" Buffy inquired innocently.

"He broke up with his most recent flame and is once again on the market, much to the horror of all the single women in the state of California," Spike said. He looked at Buffy, questioningly, wondering if she had any inkling about the big surprise party the following day. He had tried, really tried to keep it from her, but she was exceedingly wily.

"Come for a snuggle, my precious, and tell me why you were working late today."

"Oh you wouldn't believe it," Buffy huffed. "I rounded up vamps for them to stake and they hid from me. I had to stake them all myself, and the last one I pummeled while they just stood there. It was _unbelievable_."

"Whoa," Spike said. "And when I say, give them time, I mean that in the most skeptical yet supportive way possible."

"Right, give them a hundred years and maybe they won't get themselves killed in the first five minutes on patrol," Buffy said. She was huffing and stomping around and Spike found it irresistibly cute. He caught her up in another hug. "Spike, stop." She flipped open a cupboard and pulled out a wine glass. "Get me a nice red Chablis," she ordered.

"Chablis is a white wine, dearest," Spike said, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, well, something red, you know what I like."

"Indeed I do." Spike swept up a bottle from his fancy wine rack that he had labored to build – with Xander's help – and tried to fill with sophisticated California wines that he had personally tasted at each local vineyard. He poured her a glass, then swirled it around in the glass to let it breathe.

"Just hand it over, _garcon_ ," Buffy said, smiling now and moving toward him. Spike took a large sip then moved over to her, pressing his lips to hers and letting the wine pass through into her mouth. He thought she would squeal and pretend to hate it, but she surprised him, murmuring and moving closer, rubbing her hands along his hips.

When they were done kissing, Buffy wanted to watch a little television and Spike settled in next to her on the couch. He found he couldn't stop looking at her. She finished her glass of wine and asked for another. He rendered prompt service, and though Angel was still mocking him in the back of his head, he cooked her a simple dinner and then watched her eat it, still in front of the TV.

"Great dinner," Buffy said, leaning back on the couch, satisfied. "Hey, why are there boot prints on my pillows!"

"So dinner was good, eh?" Spike lowered his lashes and looked at her.

"Why are you looking like the cat that ate the canary?" Buffy asked.

"'Cause I did, pet," Spike responded. "And I soiled your little pwetty pillows with my big bad boots because I am bad, bad, man. Who was rushing to the phone -- in my defense -- actually."

"Mmmm. Bad, bad, Spike. Very bad."

His punishment was more kissing and then she yawned and said she was headed to bed. Spike glanced at the clock and saw that it was 12:30.

"Wait!" He said and bounded up and over the sofa and into the kitchen. A few minutes later he came back with a tiny chocolate cake covered with fresh flowers and presented it to her.

"Happy Birthday," he said.

Buffy smiled beatifically and thanked him, looking a little teary-eyed as she did so.

"Spike?"

"Yes, love."

"Are you going to fall in love with another slayer when I die?"

"Buffy!" Spike sat up and hugged her tightly against him. "Please, please don't say things like that."

"I can't help it," Buffy sniffed. "I just, you know, with Willow dying. Spike, she's _dead_ , and she's not coming back. And she didn't get killed by a demon or by a vampire, or by black magic. She died of cancer, and that scares me more than you could possibly know."

"I know." Spike began rubbing Buffy's back, gently but firmly. "I don't know what it would be like to have cancer, to be mortal in that way. But I know what it's like to die, to be dust, and I understand your loss, because I feel it same as you do. But love, know this," He paused and looked into her eyes, tilting her chin up so they were face to face. "There will never be anyone but you. After you go, and I know that you will, because that's what bein' human is… after you go, there will never be another." He grunted, clearing his throat. "After you, it's gonna be just me and Peaches, watching out for Dawn and Connor's little ones, the Harrises, Melinda, whoever needs us."

"Thanks for this, Spike. And thanks for tomorrow. I know everyone's probably coming in and I just want you to know, in advance, how much I appreciate all you've done for me."

Spike gasped and looked at her, horrified. "You _know?_ " He was trying not to feel crushed.

"I'm sorry, darling, you're the worst secret-keeper in the world," Buffy said. "As is Dawn. And pretty much everyone we know, particularly Faith, who seems to have had a hand in a lot of the planning. But don't be upset, don't be disappointed. No one will ever, ever know that it's not a surprise to me. I wouldn't ruin it for the world. Smile, please."

Spike smiled. And smiled again, wider. And she smiled back.

"Happy 60th birthday, my beautiful darling."

"Oh God, I am _so_ old," Buffy said laughing, and Spike swept her up off the couch, careful not to spill chocolate and flowers everywhere, and carried her up to bed.

_Fadeout._


End file.
